Pinky's Nightmare
by Canned Tins
Summary: Pinky has a nightmare (Or is it a daymare?), which interrupts Brain from his own slumber, and prompts the usually-grumpy mouse to comfort his companion. (Crossposted from AO3)


Nearing sunset, the scientists at ACME labs were more than ready to head home. Some would take the night shift, shaking hands with the departing workers as they entered. In the little cage, Pinky and the Brain slept.

But sleep would be interrupted once Pinky let out a loud narf! that sent his body flying towards the ceiling, now awake after what seemed to be the aftermath of some night-terror (or was it a day-terror?). Pinky scrabbled under his blanket and shook violently, as if all the world's' horrors had invaded his tiny mind.

Speaking of minds, Brain snapped awake at the sound of a his companion hitting the ceiling, and then to the floor with squeaky, terrified narf s and poit s. He wouldn't admit to it, but he was shaken by the sudden noises. Curse his species' propensity for instinctual anxiety. He promptly stood up and wearily trudged over to where Pinky hid and shook underneath the blanket. Now he seemed concerned.

"Pinky? What are you doing?"

" Narf ! Don't get me! No! I'm not ready! Poit !"

Brain grunted, tossing the blanket aside to reveal Pinky, cowering. He always seemed pathetic to Brain, but this time he was taking it to new levels.

"Nightmares?"

Pinky sniffed, "Y-yeah! Wait, no-yeah! it looked so real! Narf !"

Brain yawned, feigning apathy. "I thought you were having convulsions again. After that week they fooled around with your cerebrum-"

"No! Don't make me remember it! It-it was worse than that!" Pinky shrank back even further, tears flowing out of his eyes as if he were a broken faucet.

Brain couldn't continue acting cold like this. Dimwitted and annoying as he could be, Pinky was still his closest friend. His face softened a little as he sat down next to the skinnier mouse. Pinky sniffled and reached out to hug him tightly. This time Brain didn't mind-but if Pinky told anyone else, he was dead.

"Tell me about it, Pinky. And don't cry too much."

Pinky swallowed down a glob of phlegm and wiped away his tears. His eyes were already red from crying, but he no longer trembled as furiously.

"You were there, too. They took you out of the, uh, the cage and strapped you down on the operating table. Like what happened that week, but with you instead, narf ! A-and then they, uh, they took one of those pointy things and-"

Pinky nearly fainted. Brain gave him a gentle slap awake, to which he continued:

"I was yelling your name, but you couldn't hear me...and then they brought down the, uh, pointy thing to your stomach and-Oh! It was terrible, Brain! I-they were gonna, uh, viva-vizzy-er-"

"Vivisect?"

"Yeah! they were gonna, uh, do that to you! A-and then they just tossed you aside and I was next!"

Pinky was starting to shake again. Brain suppressed the urge to roll his eyes (vivisection-based dreams are so common in lab mice!), but something deep inside him had genuine sympathy for his gawky friend. He understood that Pinky saw him as a dear friend, and seeing your best friend undergo such a thing would be traumatizing for anybody.

"It might happen, it might not ...but what matters in this context right now, Pinky, is that it was only a nightmare. Your mind must have taken some unwanted, repressed memories of past experiments involving the violation of our bodies for the use of human interest, and warped it in such a way to create a horror story based around seemingly...routine processes."

Pinky stopped shaking, looking like a paused frame on a TV screen

"Egad, Brain. You might be right. But does this mean you get them, too? Poit ."

Brain thought about it for a second. For once in their pitifully short life, Pinky said something worth pondering over.

After a good few seconds of pondering, Brain nodded, "Yes. Quite frequently. However, I have gotten used to them over time. Only occasionally does one escape my expectations, and gives me quite a fright."

Pinky had stopped crying and simply gazed at his friend with starry, reddened eyes.

Brain continued, "And I have dreams about taking over the world, too. Both in failure and success. And I wonder sometimes, why we even exist, but I don't want to frazzle your minuscule mind any more than it should be."

Pinky's eyes darted back and forth, his face taking on an expression of newfound thoughtfulness.

"I, uh, I think we're here to be experimented on. How old are you, now? Two?"

" Two years and eight months."

" Zort ! You don't have long left to live!"

"...Neither do you, Pinky," Brain stood up, "But you still have six and a half months left in you. Anyway, you should really go to sleep."

Pinky sniffled one last time, "Can I, uh, sleep next to you?"

Brain's face switched from displeasure to resigned acceptance, "Fine. But you do not tell anybody about this."

Pinky followed Brain to his sleeping area, taking his blanket with him, and snuggling up next to the smaller mouse.

"We don't have much time, we should rest well until tonight."

Pinky knew exactly why until tonight, yet he still asked, "And what are we doing tonight, Brain?"

Brain cast a shadow of a smile.

"What we always do every night. Try to take over the world ."


End file.
